** This post was written under the influence of serious narcotics. My pain meds had not yet kicked in when I began writing … but then they hit me full force. Really, really, full force! Can you tell at what point in my writing I became a druggy? It's all a bit of a blur. **
I am temporarily out of my fucking mind in pain sidelined. I mentioned to a friend yesterday, when my pain levels get out of control like this, it makes it impossible to think clearly enough to write. On the other hand, when I take pain meds I can write … but I just never know what might come out of my brain onto the Internet via my typing fingers.
No, the skyrocketing pain level is not a result of playing hooky from PT for one day so please don't tell me it is.
The pain is also not a result of using my new camera although using it did make me sore and certainly didn't help.
This hell pain is a result of several new things The Torturer decided to try with me on Monday.
He likes to experiment with new things. (*snicker*)
I have not forgiven him yet. I sent him text messages Monday night while he slept and I writhed in pain didn't sleep, saying things like: You're evil. I quit you. And: I will never trust a man named The Torturer again. And: You are not my friend anymore.
There might have been a few more, but you get the idea.
In the morning The Torturer began texting me back. He wasn't the least bit fazed by any of my messages. He informed me he would be seeing me at 10 a.m. I wasn't supposed to go into PT on Tuesday, but he insisted on seeing me and I was in too much agony to protest.
I called my doc before I left for PT and screamed begged for more pain meds. He was in surgery so I had to wait until the very end of the day to get my prescription renewed.
It was not a good day. My jaw hurt from having my teeth clenched all day. There really is a reason for the expression teeth clenching pain.
The Torturer lectured me about letting my prescription for pain meds run out. I informed him I had been quite sure I would never need them again. He looked at me and sighed. He's had to deal with my denial stubborness for a long time. "Don't ever let yourself be without them again," he said firmly. Then he spent a few hours working on pain reduction techniques.
He says I need to stay drugged up for a few days till I get over this "hurdle."
I don't like taking drugs. Drugs are bad! I can't think on drugs.
The best part of PT was when he wrapped me all up cozy-like in a really soft blanket so I could stay warm while my shoulder and arm were surrounded by ice. I really liked that blanket. It was brand new. I might need to steal it and bring it home with me. I'm already attached. I love cozy blankets.
Blankets. Zzzzzzz …
Do you sometimes wonder if anyone has ever really experienced an erection lasting longer than four hours?
Would it be something to complain about if you did?
I just don't think I'd be the one complaining is all I'm saying.
This is a serious issue and I think it warrants discussion so please leave me comments today letting me know about the erections you've experienced. And whether or not you have, or have even considered, complaining about them.
Can I reword that a little? I don't want to hear about every erection you've ever experienced. Like that one guy? The one who had such a crooked penis it looked like a winding mountain road? Or perhaps more like one of those curly-swirly straws that go round and round till it gets to your mouth? I'd rather not be reminded read about that one.
The part I just wrote about the hypothetical straw reaching someone's hypothetical mouth wasn't intended to be the sentence it turned out to be.
I'd fix it but things are getting very confusing.
Things, like the room I'm in, are really spinning quite a lot.
The world spins too. Every day. All the time.
These drugs are really a lot stronger than any drugs should be. These drugs should be illegal.
Oh, they are? People actually shoot up these drugs. All illegal-ish-ly. Crazy!
Next time I better only take one of these pills. No, it is not Vicodin. It's Vicodin's BIG BROTHER or some other such type of analogy.
I might have not used the word analogy exactly correctly, but I really do know what it means but just not right now.
I think I took too many pillzzzzzzzz.
A palm reader on Twitter asked if he could spend some time with me and heal my arm.
What does reading palms have to do with healing arms?
He would look at my palm and say, "Your arm is really screwed up!"
He would know instantly because I wouldn't be able to lift my palm for him to read.
Also, maybe because he read my tweet saying, "My arm is really screwed up!"
Oh my … the keys on my keyboard are jumping around and rearranging themselves! I'm not even kidding. It's making it really hard to type.
Speaking of hard … weren't we discussing erections?
I can't remember the exact thing I asked you about erections, but leave me a comment about a memorable erection or two. (R rated comments at the most please … no X rated comments or I will delete them.)
I had more things to tell you. Really important things. I think. But I can't remember now because everything is spinny and dizzy-ish.
I might have messed up this post. Really sorry if I di.d.
© Twenty Four At Heart